Thursday, November 1, 2012

Tell Me a Story

Given that it's (was) Halloween and I'm sick as a dog, I decided to make a little holiday themed short story for you. Enjoy! Warning: contains coarse language. May be unsuitable for younger readers.

The buddy pic with Shatner and Takei was a bust. Even I didn't see that coming. You'd think that it would at least become immortalized, like Big Trouble in Little China or Evil Dead 2, you know? A real shitty, good movie. But I was wrong again. It was Halloween in Montecito, and I was the laughing stock of the star studded boulevards of Santa Monica and West L.A. When people ask me where I was, last Halloween I always tell them I was stalking Oprah's house. I hear she (her personal assistant) gives out Ipods.

I was standing out on the balcony watching them come by, each little kid waiting for their dreams to be shattered by the cruel world. I loved Halloween when I was a kid. Think about it. Dressing up in costume and getting free candy, not having to scarf down that vegan shit your parents are pushing on you. It was the one time a year I could sneak away from my bullshit hippy parent's house to get KFC. I never told them though. Too much red tape. Too much "non invasive" guilt talks. Now, here I was again, looking at the Jake and Finns, the Power Rangers, tons of Avengers ensembles. It made me, for a second, want to pick up the phone and call Al down at Paramount. LaVerde had helped me out of a ton of binds before.

Kids are something though. They have the goods, the imagination to see something through. My son, two years old, waist deep in shit, and the little guy was writing Oscar worthy stuff with his action figures. I was waiting for that moment again: to get the goods back. I did it with Scorsese back in the eighties. Why not now? Shut up! Shut up... Kids are coming. Am I wearing my aftershave to heavy? Did I shave? Who cares...

"Trick or treat!"

"Hey ya' guys," I said, looking at the parents while they eyeballed the inside of my house, "What do we have here! We got an Iron Man, Hulk, and a, god what was his name... Oh! Captain America. You know I know a guy who did that movie. Top notch, good stuff..."

"Thanks mister."

 They run off like they just met Nixon. They have no idea who I am. The parents nod, smiling for the sake of politeness. Who do they think I am? A wash up? A sellout? Fuck them! What do they know? I made the movies...

It was a while before the next kid came.

An hour later it was a biggin'! Tough, mean piece of shit. Like a young Trejo. He walks up looking at me like he wants to steal my car, and I practically piss my pants. But I know who I am. I worked with De Niro for Christ sakes!

"Can I have some candy?" he says, like he's fucking entitled.

"Nothin' in life is free kid..." I murmur. But then it hits me. God! why didn't I think of it sooner?

"Tell you what kid," I respond before he shout back, "tell me a story. Candy is candy, shit. But I got something better. I'll make it worth your while if it's a good one."

The kid looks at me like I'm doping, flips me off and walks away. Knowing my luck he'll go to People, and make up some bullshit about me comin' on to him or something.

It was at least another half hour before I get the next kid. The line to Oprah's is around the block. Kids, walking away with Ipads and unlocked phones.... Jesus H Christ! I'm in the wrong business. This kid is younger. Hopefully he'll play ball. Hopefully...

"Trick or treat!"

This kid is great, dressed up like some writer or poet. Some deconstructionist or something. He holds out his bag, expectantly, and I lean back against the door frame of my palatial mansion

"Forget the candy. You got an edge to ya' son. Wanna be famous?"

He looks at me like I just ate my own head and walks away without saying anything. Typical. Kid didn't have guts. You need guts to make it in Hollywood.

It's getting late now, and I'm tired. Nightmare Before Christmas is on pretty soon. Phenominal picture! That Burton guy, what a character. Before I can go to turn out the lights I get another guy, well kid, little kid. His parents are out by the sidewalk watching from a distance. Must be fans. He looks up at me and smiles holding out his bag over his head, like its the cub from Lion King.

"Trickertreat!" He says.

Fuck me, this kid is cute. I pour out the rest of the bowl into his bag. Before he turns to go though I  bend down, look him straight in the eyes and say, "Do you know any stories?"

He looks at me and smiles.

"I know... a story about a duck! He has one leg and can dance!"

"And why dance, little guy?"

"He wants to dance in a tu-tu!"

I look up at his parents who are scratching their heads, so I send him off. Brilliant! Kiddy pic, 3D, animated.... That's what it'll be. Duck trying to make it in the swan dance. Gotta call Zemekis.

God damn. I love Halloween...

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